


The Toy Stag

by withinmelove



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, Fluff, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Will Loves Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 16:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6123002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withinmelove/pseuds/withinmelove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will decides that he wants to have a small party for Hannibal's birthday. Too bad when everyone else steps in it's not his idea anymore. Hannibal understands what his sweet boy was trying to do for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Toy Stag

**Author's Note:**

  * For [damnslippyplanet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/damnslippyplanet/gifts).



> Here is the stag Will gives Hannibal as a gift: http://abeautifulmess.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8358081ff69e201287657d5ce970c-800wi  
> Will's "dress up" outfit: https://c2.staticflickr.com/4/3416/3259253977_2b18ddb7a7_b.jpg
> 
> Apologies that this fic is now two days late :( But I had a ton of fun working on this! My beta Solo is the one who made this look great! Thank you.

Hannibal’s birthday is next week and Will is at a complete loss of what to do for it. He wants to do _something_ for Hannibal. He seems the type of guy who’s used to not celebrating his birthday. Or if he does it would be ironic. Will snorts in laughter and chokes on his coffee. The thought of Hannibal wearing a party hat sitting in his kitchen with a glass of wine had popped into his head. Will recovers from his fit and revises the image in his head. No, if Hannibal was going to do his own birthday he’d make himself a blood red cheesecake...with - with some type of dark wine that stains his lips. Again Will nearly chokes on his coffee; apparently he can’t trust his brain when it comes to Hannibal. 

Beverly with her eerily perfect timing strolls into his classroom, eyebrows raised, a ready smile on her mouth. 

“I heard coughing, do you need CPR? I’m a pro at it.” Will can’t help the grin that comes to him. Beverly is good for him. 

“I’m fine, but I need your help with something.” At once she perks up, all ears for whatever he has in mind. If he was a better friend, a word used in the loosest terms, he would make more of an effort to chat with Beverly of his own volition. However, she never seems to mind finding him. 

“Is it girl trouble?” She leans her hip against his desk, “Guys only ask for help if it’s about girls or where the bathroom is and I know you know the second one.” He laughs and god does it feel so odd to be light hearted for once. Beverly shares the sentiment, blinking her angular eyes before a sly look comes to her face. 

“So it _is_ a girl. Or should I say a man?” The smile he gulps down is a clear giveaway and Will curses himself. Damn it, he just wants to do a birthday party for Hannibal and here Beverly has already sussed out his inconvenient feelings. She looks entirely too proud of herself for accomplishing this so fast, and he’s in this deep so he may as well get on with it.

He mumbles, “I want to do something for Hannibal’s birthday”. Unable to meet her eyes when he says this. He doesn’t want to see the shock on her face upon hearing where his particular affections lie. 

“He’d like that.” Will chances a glance to see she’s not shocked but smiling tenderly at him as if he’s said something sweet. Heat prickles at his face and neck. It’s no big deal, just a simple get together. “Besides Hannibal comes across like the kind of dude to make himself a big cupcake, frost it all fancy like in those cooking shows, and eat it with wine.” Will nods, smiling in spite of his embarrassment. Beverly knows his best thoughts exactly. 

\---

After that, before he can really even blink, his words have become the catalyst for full blown party preparation. Beverly of course harasses Zeller and Price into joining, while Jack jumps on board with a clear air of excitement. In between dragging Will to crime scenes and breathing down his neck to find the killer,s Jack is non-stop discussing what he, Beverley, and Alana are planning in regards to the party. The project has completely left Will’s hands, leaving him behind in a whirlwind of ideas. Will can say he’s a man not given to petty jealousies, but on this occasion he’s a bit miffed. This had been his idea but it’s turning into more of a networking extravaganza now, with Jack at the helm of the planning. 

So he may or may not be sulking at home with the dogs, phone turned off. Right now he doesn’t want to hear about cases or Hannibal’s birthday party. The thought crosses his mind of getting Hannibal a dog. A puppy, for the best training results. However while Hannibal’s always been pleasant to Will’s dogs he seems to have no real inclination for them. No doubt too messy and excitable for his taste. Idiotic as well, but another idea had breezed through - getting a bust done of Hannibal. He has the perfect face for it. Will groans as he scrubs at his face; he’s fucking hopeless. 

In the end Will gets a plushie stag as a gift because really what could he get that others haven’t already or that Hannibal can’t easily buy himself? He goes to the party despite the amount of people now on the guest list which has been made up at some point. For Hannibal and making this a special day Will can force himself to be social. 

The location is Jack’s house seeing as besides Hannibal’s own house or office it’s the only place big and cozy enough to hold everyone. Hannibal is good natured about the whole surprise party. He smiles when everyone shouts “Surprise!” and “Happy birthday!” as he’s led into the livingroom where presents and partygoers alike wait for him. 

“Thank you everyone. This will certainly be a good birthday.” The words raise a cheer before the alcohol is flowing forth, with cake being passed around a second later. Unsurprisingly Hannibal is thronged by the crowd of professors invited by Jack.

Will waves away the offer of cake and beer feeling stupidly put out about how his little party has bloated into something far less intimate than what he had wanted. He clenches his hand around the plushie stag in his jacket pocket and checks to make sure its honey gold antlers aren’t peeking out. No point to put it with the small mountain of gifts on the coffee table, the stag would only look ragtag against all the nice wrapping paper. 

It doesn’t help that already his tablespoon of sociability has dried up, his skin itching to leave the jampacked room. So he escapes to the bathroom as much as he can get away with and outside for “fresh air” as is socially polite. He ducks out when everyone takes up the chant for Hannibal to open his gifts. Will doesn’t really feel like like regretting buying the little plush in comparison to all the nicer items wrapped up.

It’s during the height of celebration after opening the presents - drinking and braying laughter - that Will makes his fifteenth escape outside, this time to his car. He pops the trunk open and wriggles out of his new corduroy jacket, undoing the cuffs of the also new white button up shirt. A deep breath, in and out, of the crisp night air loosens the tension in his muscles. Will rubs at his eyes, wondering if he can somehow slip the plushie stag to Hannibal without him noticing. Probably not; he would catch the new addition in an instant. He sighs and hums along to the smooth mellow tune of “Me and Mrs. Jones” playing in the background. Billy Paul’s crooning covers up the sound of footsteps until Will startles at the surprise appearance of Hannibal. 

“Shouldn’t you be at your party?” Will says, and no he doesn’t sound like a petulant child. Nor does he blush to remember what song is playing right now. He’s not going to be embarrassed that his radio channel has decided to play this one song in particular. Not at all. 

Of course Hannibal isn’t bothered by his tone in fact he’s looking rather - affectionate. Will swallows, a wave of heat prickling over him at Hannibal’s soft eyes, thin mouth curved up in a rare smile. The next snipe on his tongue dissolves when Hannibal gestures to the space next to him. 

“May I?” Will nods, tongue tied, when Hannibal sits right next to him, not bothering with personal space. He thinks he’s going to combust when yet _another_ love song comes on. Never again is he listening to this station. However Hannibal doesn’t seem concerned with their song choice, but more with looking at Will. Before he can find his tongue to spit out a snappy retort Hannibal speaks up. “Thank you Will for this party, it was sweet of you.” This time his mouth has no trouble blurting out words.

“Did Beverly tell you?” A chuckle and wow Hannibal’s laughter is a kick of heat low in his stomach. Hannibal shakes his head. 

“No one told me; I knew it was you. None of the others would have even known it was my birthday today.” 

“What about Alana and Jack?” This makes Hannibal grin, and Will should really go before he embarrasses himself, but he’s pinned by all this amusement and eye contact being directed at him. 

“Cute as your obtuse behavior is, Will, why don’t you show me what you’ve been holding onto all night? Is it a gift you were too embarrassed to give me in front of the others?” It may be dark out but the car light still lets Will see the way Hannibal’s eyes flick down and up his body looking for a gift on his person. He swallows against his sandpaper mouth as he shakes his head. Okay so maybe all those homemade breakfasts hadn’t just been out of friendly intentions. This realization makes him want to beat his head against the car. Of fucking course Hannibal would court him with food. 

“No I - just couldn’t find the right time.” He turns away to fumble with a pocket _\- oh god did it fall out-_ before he realizes the stag is in the other one. Despite the cramped quarters the stag is unharmed and Will does not expect the reaction he gets upon handing it over. Hannibal seems _completely smitten_ with the plushie checkerboarded in every hue and shade of brown. He traces the electric blue button eye, strokes an ear between his thumb and forefinger before pressing his nose to its back taking in a deep smell. Will laughs at this because it wouldn’t be a full Hannibal inspection if he didn’t scent the object. 

“Did you do that with all your gifts?” He can’t help teasing leaning back on his hands to better appreciate this ridiculously cute image. 

“No, none of the other gifts had your scent on them and as it’s my birthday I want to invoke the traditional right to demand my own gift.” Will raises his eyebrow even as his stomach tightens, the heat of earlier returning to warm him all over. 

“Oh yeah? What more does birthday boy want?” Hannibal’s eyeing him with more then just tenderness now.

“A kiss.” At this point Will can’t even feign surprise with himself or Hannibal. Before he can so much as sit up Hannibal’s leaning over and kissing him. He tries to keep it chaste but that’s difficult to do with Hannibal pressed against him and his hand moving onto his thigh. He looks not in the least apologetic when Will draws back enough to quip, “Just a kiss?” 

“If you let me keep you, there will be more than just kisses.” Hannibal promises and Will has never sold his soul faster or for a better deal. 

“I’m yours now Hannibal, shut up and kiss me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Also I like to pretend this is Hannibal's outfit for this fic: http://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/twittibal/images/c/c0/Tumblr_mozv955WgX1sthc70o6_r1_500.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20131216231644
> 
> I know Will is unusually full of laughter and smiles in this fic but I figured since this was a birthday gift it should have plenty of sweetness to it. Happy (almost a week late) birthday Slippy! Thank you for the hannigram you give to us fangirls and fanboys in the tumblr and ao3 world!


End file.
